#been awhile since I used saturated colors

[lavenderbeastie]

my blue moon and your red skies (10pm)

[notmoreflippingelves]

[emotionalsupportemoboys]

Thank you for all the love on part one! I wrote this a while ago and never got around to posting it. Not as long, but I may continue it eventually. Enjoy!

Lie to Me [Part 1]

🔞 MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 🔞

Summary: Pregnancy angst, smut, & fluff

You lean back against Dabi and rest your hands on top of his. You can feel his heartbreak, like a tangible, living thing taking up space between the two of you, sucking all of the air out of the room.

You knew that he wanted to stay with you, to watch your child grow and to have a chance at being a better father than Enji could have ever been. You’d already spent countless hours imagining him with a little red headed boy or white haired girl on his hip, but in those fantasies, his scars were always gone, along with the anger and resentment that he’d been carrying around for years.

“I don’t wanna discipline you tonight, Doll,” he murmurs, distracting you from your thoughts as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. “I just wanna fuck ya hard enough to make up for an entire lifetime.”

Romance had never been his first language, but that was, by far, one of the most profoundly romantic things he’d ever said to you.

You swallow thickly while reaching back to tangle your hand in his hair.

“Yeah.” You say quietly, “Sounds good to me.”

“If I could...” He murmurs, sounding thoughtful as he presses a few open mouthed kisses along your throat, “I’d burn myself into your body so that you’ll never forget me.”

You smile ruefully while turning your head to kiss his temple, “As if I could ever forget you, Touya.”

He pauses and you can feel his chest rise and fall as he takes a deep breath.

“But maybe it would be better if you did,” he says while lacing his fingers through your own, “So that this kid never finds out who their father is.”

Your heart aches for him.

“I’ve already decided that this baby will know everything about you that is safe for them to know.” You say firmly, “No names, no gritty details, but they will at least understand what their father was fighting for.”

He scoffs and you can practically hear him roll his eyes, “Don’t make me out to be some kind of hero.”

You’re prepared to argue with him when he suddenly bites down on your neck, prompting you to shift your hips.

“Easy, baby,” he drawls as he slides his hand between your legs, easily pushing your panties aside in order to caress your already saturated cunt. “It’s been awhile, hasn’t it?”

You hum in response.

“And your body is different now,” he says while slipping his free hand beneath your shirt to squeeze one of your swollen breasts, “More sensitive.”

You can feel him smiling against your throat as you gasp and arch your back. He was right, you’d undergone quite a few physical changes since you’d last seen him, yet he still seemed to crave you like a dying man thirsting for water.

He slides two fingers into your heat and starts pumping them in and out, using his knuckles to massage your inner walls in a way that makes you keen his name.

“That’s it, gorgeous,” he purrs while nuzzling his nose against your cheek, “Just like that.”

You can already feel his hard-on rubbing against your back and you innocently adjust your weight on the mattress in order to grind against him.

“Doll,” he snarls a warning while hiding his face in your hair.

“It’s been awhile for you, too, I see,” you say smugly.

He grunts, “Yeah, well, jerkin’ off in the shower to the thought of the last time we fucked doesn’t quite do ya justice. Now tell me where it is.”

“Huh?” Perplexed, you crane your neck to look at him, “Where what is?”

“The toy that you’ve been using.” He chuckles, “You can’t expect me to believe that someone with your libido hasn’t been touching herself every night.”

Embarrassment colors your cheeks as you eye the nightstand beside the bed. “It’s in the top drawer,” you admit quietly.

He leans around you in order to retrieve the toy with his free hand. Meanwhile, you hiss through clenched teeth as he purposefully curls his fingers into your g-spot.

“This pathetic-looking thing?” He snarks as he palms the small vibrator that had been keeping you sane all these months.

He turns it on and laughs, “Really?”

You crane your neck to glare at him, “It might not be a horse cock with piercings, but it still gets the job done!”

His blue eyes gleam with amusement in the dim lighting and when he speaks again, his voice is thick with lust, “I can tell how much your pussy has missed my horse cock because it keeps clamping down so fucking hard on my god damn fingers.”

The sudden vibration against your clit catches you by surprise and you struggle to bite back a moan as you squirm in his arms.

“Good girl,” he purrs, easily whittling away at your composure.

“Fuck, Touya...” You whine.

“Soon, baby. Soon.”

The next morning, when you wake to find him gone, you check to see if he’d fixed the lock on the window.

He had.

[frenzyarts]

Could you talk a bit about how you design your OCs from a visual level? I really love their designs. Only if you have the time and energy of course <3

Thank you so much omg 💕 I was trying to think of a good way to answer this question, but the truth is my methods are very nebulous and hard to define! I’ll do my best though 🥳

Some characters come to me very easily, some go through a few revisions, and some go through a meat grinder of revisions lol. Rune was easy, her design was just in my head right off the bat from years of drawing/thinking about demons. Yorick was a little different. Awhile back I played a ttrpg and designed this character:

Look familiar? This is prototype Yorick!! (I have this on my portfolio at a higher res if you wanna zoom in or something idk) She was a character who was kind of elfin and was a clown who controlled shadows. When I started pinning down the stories and characters of A Slowly Beating Heart I KNEW I had to put a demonic clown in there, and I thought of this design.

A phase I go through when designing characters when im not sure how they’re gonna look is doing a bunch of iterations based on vibes. Here’s some of the earliest Yorick sketches I could find, you can see how they don’t quite look “right” yet:

Like the vibes were there but that’s not our Yorick! Here’s what I think might be the first or second sketch I did where they look right:

I used the old Yorick I had designed but finally modified the outfit and design in a way that pleased me. I went with this design, and went through some minor edits with the colors, and boom, the demon clown was born! (Though even in this image they aren’t quite right, in the final comic I got rid of the lines on their horns and saturated the green parts of their eyes):

Melody is another story. Versions of Melody had also been living in my mind for almost as long as Rune, but never as a solid design. I have a zillion sketches of Melody that don’t look at all like how she looks now. It wasn’t until right before her appearance in the comic that I actually decided to refine her character design. Since I had never quite solidified how she looked in my mind, getting her on paper was quite the task. Her hairstyle was already on my mind, but I did a bunch of different versions of her halo and outfits. I put a bunch of designs together and sent them out to my friends to ask them to vote on their favorite outfit to help me decide 😂:

In the end Melody’s outfit didn’t quite look like any of these, because they’re all somewhat complex, and I need things to stay really simple for comics. Once I had designed the outfit the struggle still wasn’t over, cause now I had to do colors. Here’s just a small sampling of the color pallets I went through:

I guess if I was gonna break down my process into steps, it would be like this:

1. Sketch a bunch of ideas based on vibes

2. Choose my fav and then refine it further by tweaking the outfit/hair ect

3. Try out a lot of different colors and keep adjusting them until they look right

4. Give birth to my Art Child 💃✨🙌

I don’t always do all that, and some of the design processes for certain characters happen a little differently. But that’s basically it! Sorry this was super long, I hope it helped!!

[mymunefanartaccount]

OMG HI! ( I saw that everyone who texts you starts like this so I'll start like that too lol sorry- )

I'm so excited and I don't feel like sending this to you jkajska

Mune was also part of my childhood and I got completely addicted to it again about 2 years ago XD

I'm so happy to see that someone else is completely crazy about this beautiful masterpiece like me 💖💖 haha

It's good.... your arts are ABSURDLY PERFECT MAN!!! THE BEAUTIFUL AND CUTE GEITO HOW YOU DRAW THE CHARACTERS IS SO PERFECT

I can't stop watching the 3 animations you've already made of them!! With one of them I laughed so hard the first time I saw it my cousin said I was crying laughing lol 💀

Sorry if I'm being more of an idiot and I really loved watching what you do I hope you don't stop because you're really good at it! I really love seeing your perfect drawings they are the most beautiful things I've ever seen in my life!!

by the way... YOUR NEW AU YOU GUYS ARE DOING IS JUST PERFECT AND I WOULD LOVE TO SEE MORE IF YOU CAN DO MORE 💖💖

i think i could praise you forever but i will control myself and stop kakansiamdiakdbtw I have like a hundred ideas to suggest to you for u drawing lol , but I don't want to bother you too much AND I'M TRYING TO ENSURE I DON'T SAY THEM ALL HERE IN THE SAME TIME KASNDIEMDJ

(Sorry, you can see that I'm pretty ridiculous right? XD)

well... i promise it's the last thing i'll say hahaha

its the AU you are making and... SIMPLY THE BEST AU I HAVE EVER SEEN

MAN... THINKING WHAT IT WOULD BE LIKE IF NOTHING HAD WORKED OUT IN THE MOVIE WAS JUST GENIUS!!! YOU ARE AWESOME MAN!!! SORRY AGAIN IF I'M HUMBLE YOU AGAIN BUT I CAN'T STOP PRAISE YOU HAHAUAJSMJAKJDK

(sorry if I was too anxious or said stupid things, and that I really can't control myself sometimes X"D UUU and sory the i wrote text is soooo big- )

This made my day! Everything you said is part of why I made this account in the first place! I joined the fandom wishing there was more art and stories surrounding the characters and world. Then I finally got the idea to just start my own blog! I was a little nervous at first but then I saw how many people also wanted more art and stories in the fandom.

The animation is the most ironic part of it all because Mune is what inspired me to learn animation in the first place! As well as the use of color and saturation I like to use in my own art. Being able to use these skills to make the vines or animations feels like it’s all coming back full circle for me! Also I based the vines I’ve made so far off of @muneheadquarter compilations they made awhile back. They’re hilarious and I recommend giving them a watch.

I’m especially happy that you like my au because believe me when I say there is definitely more to come! I have made some changes since my first post and I’ve been trying to figure out what to post without spoiling too much of the story. What I can say is that I’ve decided to name it ‘Candlelight’.

I’m really glad you like my art and I’m glad you like my ideas and contributions. I hope I can inspire more people to share their ideas in the fandom!

Thank you for the lovely words!💖

[thisbarbiereallylikesbirds]

Aly! Love, LOVE your comics and art! Can’t wait for more!! Your writing is great, too! Your Trio Prequel comic is so emotional :"[

Some tips to help you:

"Ninjitsu" should be spelled "ninJUTSU", the word "jitsu" is correctly spelled "jutsu" (ex. taijutsu, shurikenjutsu, bōjutsu, etc). I love that you made Yoshi and Shō speak in Japanese, though!!

The air quotes gesture doesn't exist in Japan, so someone native to Japan wouldn't really use them. HOWEVER! Rise Yoshi doing that Western gesture could still work and be in character because he is canonically quite Westernized (as an adult especially) and wants to distance himself from Japanese culture, so Yoshi could've used the air quotes gesture to be more Western. Still, his grandpa very likely wouldn't understand what the air quotes gesture means.

Yoshi canonically has a warm undertone in his complexion while Shō has a cool undertone. You can include those undertones when coloring (just make sure not to make Yoshi's skin yellow! Yikes). Also, be sure not to whitewash the non-white characters' complexions by coloring them too pale. If you're worried about being inaccurate, in general, it's better to color their complexion tanner than it canonically is than lighter than it canonically is. Lots of East Asians have tan complexions despite what the media will have you believe. Also! Don't make the complexion ashy (ashy meaning grey, dull, desaturated) it's unnatural. A way to avoid that is ensuring you pick colors that have more saturation/vibrancy.

Be sure to add puntuation at the end of your speech text, punctuation conveys the speech's tone. A nice resource for comic formatting is looking up Blambot.com's "Comic Book Grammar & Tradition". That web page gives guidelines on creating comic speech balloons, lettering, and such.

Anyway, excited to see more from you!!

I'm so glad that you like my art!! It's always so heartwarming to hear 😊A huge thank you for the critiques that you sent me. Like I stated in the caption of the original post, I'm still very new to making comics so getting constructive criticism now will help me improve my craft before I start working on the actual finished product.Spelling and grammar have never been my strong suit so corrections are always appreciated since I often have a difficult time spotting them myself.I am more than willing to admit that adding color to my art has never been a strong suit of mine. It is, however, going to be a very important visual aspect of the finished comic so I really do appreciate you pointing out places where I can improve accuracy to the canon appearance of the characters.Typically for my art I just colorpick the colors straight from my reference image but due to the lighting of the images that I had for this particular comic some of the colors came out a little wonky and in my attempts to correct them I will admit that I lost some of the accuracy to the original color pallets. I do however think that I've found a better way to get my colors from the reference images and avoid this problem in the future. While I might adjust some colors for stylistic reasons, or to better reflect lighting I promise that avoiding whitewashing will always be a priority.I again want to say that I appreciate your contrstuctive criticism. The revised version of the comic should be up by now. I'm very excited to keep working on this au and my other ones, and while it likely still will be awhile until I feel I have the skill and time to start the official comic, I'm definitely looking forward to it!!

[cimmerian-chaos]

Zeta: One thing that I haven't seen talked about much when it comes to the whole Harry Potter and JKR situation is those who may use it as part of helping to cope with trauma, who may be ignorant of the problematic nature of the series' themes.

Growing up, the series was very much a coping mechanism for us, there was a lot about the characters that was relatable, ect. And in being trans, when Rowling's true colors became apparent, it was a very painful expirience for us, to know her true opinion of us. It poisoned an important part of our childhood, and having to let go of it hurt and took time, especially when thinking about it also dug up a lot of memories of repressed trauma. And I want to emphasize here, we had direct motivation and an active desire to do this. But when it comes to your average cishet person even just existing around them in our experience can range anywhere from hostility to awkward confusion.

On the antisemitic themes in the book, to be quite honest that was something that flew under our radar a bit, until we happened across explicitly the information of "here are some examples of antisemitic tropes that are used in media" and then our brain instantly started making connections to a lot of different examples in quite a few bits of media. Which is unsurprising, especially when you consider that at least in my experience, this Christian-centric society very much glosses over other non-Christian religions, and in being an American, I'd wager that someone living practically anywhere else is more educated on the rest of the world. In schools you're told in a sort of offhand way that other religious holidays happen around Christmas time, and Jewish people are brought up when it's pertinent, but always as a sort of footnote, like "btw these people exist." I'm taking from my own expiriences here, but compared to how the US approached other religions, Jewish people and Judaism were a topic to be approached with a polite, but careful curiosity. Like idk waiting for an abused person or animal to open up to you, since the only thing that the average person really knows about from school is the Holocaust. Even making an attempt to educate yourself, reading about things in a factual way vs actually understanding their perspective are two completely different things, and imho getting information directly from a person is preferrable. But when you're told things like "Jewish people keep to themselves" in such a way that implies that they collectively want nothing to do with anyone else and you are in fact being intrusive, when you're given dirty looks and firm silence while simply popping into a store every once in awhile because it has a nice bakery, it breeds a sort of confused shame. Because you know that you're dealing with people who to say they have suffered a lot is a massive understatement, but it then begs questions of "am I really not wanted around? Is going to buy some pastries such a bad thing? Or is this all the result of social anxiety? How do I make things right, if no one will so much as say hello back?" It feels like another reminder of how atrocious people's education is here, but imho in a way that's not particularly constructive. We've onmy learned what we have due to surprise, surprise interacting with Jewish people, listening to their perspectives and stories. So we're only now aquiring knowledge that we've been looking for since middle school, but had never been able to get due to situations like the above.

While individual people being antisemitic was fairly easy to pick up on since those individuals tend to go all-out on the matter, we wouldn't have factually known an antisemitic media trope if it hit us in the face. Because as 90's (and maybe 2000's) kids all grew older and were exposed to different kinds of people with the rise of the internet there was also more exposure of and communication about harmful stereotypes that popular cartoons were saturated with. From what we've observed, it's similar to what happened with consumerism in that it wound up having the opposite effect, maybe because it was so perliferious as to be incomprehensible, or maybe like us as an autistic child all the rascist stuff flew over your head head just because you were taught to just be a decent person to everyone.

So while there's zero argument that Rowling is a person with some horrible views, and therefore that is reflected in her work, I think it might also be good to keep these sorts of things in mind when initially interacting with those who are unaware of these issues. Immediately shaming ignorant people for liking a thing isn't the answer, nor is simply yelling at them, "Your coping mechanism for dealing with your trauma is BAD!" and demanding that they just find something else. Coping mechanisms don't just work like that, and it comes across as trivializing their own expiriences. You could potentially be attempting to strip someone of an important coping mechanism that could create a ripple effect. Like let's say you have someone who loves to read, a love that was initially born out of Rowling's books. If you're too forceful with someone, you're going to to make things worse either relationship wise and drive someone into the opposite direction, or you're going to potentially shame someone to where they give up on something that they love as a whole, we've seen both happen.

So explain calmly, slowly. Give them time to digest. Allow them to come to their own conclusions. Pay attention to whether or not they're resistant to the idea of abandoning JKR, or Harry Potter, because while you can't separate the art from the artist, based on my own experience with coping with the reality of the situation their mind might try at first, because weighing a coping mechanism against compassion or "the greater good" can be hard emotionally bc feels are Like That. Think of it like growing pains.

If it becomes clear that they don't give a fuck, then that's another story, but I felt that even if these concepts aren't the most refined it's still would be good to bring up, because no one seems to be talking about anything like this. No one is immune to echo chambers, it's a lot easier for us to talk about all the ways in which the Queen Bee-got is bad, because we all have the same basic understanding, but communicating these things we see as fundamental facts due to our first hand and emotionally charged expiriences to other people who have next to no connection to the issue in a healthy way can sometimes require a finesse that the internet and social media seems to have obliterated.

[dandelight]

1, 5, 9, 13, 29, 21, 26, 32, 33, 42, 49

sorry it's a lot hgskdk

omg no tysm, i am [gib] over all of these!!

What are your top 3 favorite sets you’ve made?

yennefer week day 2 yennefer & jaskier + nicknames hisirdoux casperan + verbal incantations

5. What is your favorite movie/TV show to gif?

Most of my stuff has been with either The Witcher or Wizards, but i think I actually really like giffing music videos/documentaries? The lighting is so much easier to work with than it is on many tv shows, and while Wizards was pretty easy to work with in a lot of ways, I think I like working with live action footage more because it makes coloring/blending feel a lot more seamless.

9. What/who inspired you to start making gifs?

At this point, I honestly don't even know?? I was making little gifs as soon as I had proper access to Photoshop on my own device, but I think it was just a natural evolution out of the graphics I would make on Instagram in middle/high school. The biggest inspiration was probably all the graphics/gifs coming out of the Kingdom Hearts fandom though.

13. Where or from whom did you learn how to gif?

Basically everything I've learned came from googling tutorials and finding links on tumblr. I think a few aspects of learning how the timeline worked came from making animations & cinemographs in my graphics class, but if I ever wanted to learn a specific technique or was having an issue with my exporting, I just kinda googled things and dug around until I found what I was looking for.

21. PSDs or original coloring for each gif?

oh I have to make the coloring from scratch every time skjskdhfkdsf; I don't think I even have a generic, catch-all base PSD I use. Only if I'm making a set with similarly lit scenes will I make a base PSD for other gifs, but rarely will I ever use it for a different set.

26. How many un posted sets are in your drafts right now?

None actually 😶 I actually only use my drafts to test out how gifs will look and move on the dashboard + how the gifs will look lined up together; I think the only time I finished a set and didn't immediately post it was when I had done work for a fandom event and was waiting to post on a specific date.

29. Have you ever posted a set, realized you made a mistake later but it was already too late?

omg I don't think so, but I did delete my initial post of a set that I uploaded during the whole tag debacle of early 2022 (the yennskier nicknames one actually, lol), but I had already linked it in a few places, so it had already started to be reblogged and now I just can't see any interactions on it in my feed 😔

32. What is your favorite tool/adjustment layer in Photoshop?

Selective color my beloved omg. Though lately I've been doing a bit more similar color adjustment stuff with the Hue/Saturation layer, and have been figuring out how Channel Mixer works, so those are getting up there. Also can never go wrong with a black + color gradient map sdfdsfds

33. Do you like to/can you make edits and graphics too or only gifs?

I used to do edits/graphics on Instagram, and I probably still could do it to some degree? But I've been gif-focused for awhile now, and I actually used to use free online editing websites like Ribbet and PicMonkey for my old edits because I couldn't get access to Photoshop, so I feel like I would need to recalibrate in a way sdsdfsdfds.

42. How is your gif folder organized? Is it organized at all?

It always starts organized whenever I venture into a new fandom. Then I make a ton of other things, and ton of test PSDs and test gifs and whatnot, and now everything is in at least 5 different folders. Tbh this is just a really good reminder for me to start clearing out things I no longer need and to fix up my folders a bit lmaooo

49. How much would you say you’ve improved since you first started giffing?

So much omg??? And like, I'm definitely extremely critical of my stuff, and honestly have so many crying fits over being unable to get the sharpening/speed/coloring of a gif working well in its final state. But I think about the first gif I ever made, just a simple cut from a show with no tweaking whatsoever, to the kind of things I'm able to make now and am just so 🥺❤ And I was proud of a lot of the things I made in the last year, but now that I've recently been able to get a handle on a lot of the issues I've been having, I feel like what I make accurately reflects my ability atm, and I'm genuinely having fun with giffing again 💗

[geesenoises]

i was tagged in a different (shorter) version of this awhile ago and i had it all answered and then accidentally backed out of it just as i was about to post 🙃 so this time i did it in google docs. thank you @saintgarbanzo for tagging me! deepest apologies to everyone for how long this is. i tend to go on.

relationship status single, but also i take my marriage to @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm very seriously.

favorite food dim sum. shrimp rice rolls drowned in sweet dim sum soy sauce foreverrrrr.

favorite color green, pink. i think i’m really just a very saturated color person. neons. jewel tones. love them.

song stuck in your head for reasons unknown - the killers. they bring fans up on stage to play the drums with them when they play it on tour and i watched so many of them last night. my favorites are kyle, from their scotland show (which @wolfpants will probably appreciate) and katie from manchester (brandon calls her casey, but there was a fairly credible article that identified her). but there are so many and you should look them all up!! i clap and cheer at the end of every single one.

last thing you googled "how much is a steinway” i cannot play piano, nor do i want one. i just couldn’t remember if they’re in the $50k or $100k range (probably could get an old used one for $50k if you looked, but starting around $70k depending on model. and the sky’s the limit.)

time 8:13pm

dream trip a trip that literally will only exist in my dreams is one i was supposed to take before the panini ruined everything. visiting my brother in japan. i would stop in singapore for a week first, and then go visit him and we’d maybe go on a road trip together. he’s moving back here in the spring, so it can’t happen, but i did get to see him and take a mini american road trip so thats okay. other places: italy, hong kong, taiwan, various american roadtrips, a house in the country or next to lake with all the people i love most in the world.

last book you read uhhhh this is very embarrassing. i have not read a complete book in the longest time. but the last book i started is george saunder’s A Swim in a Pond in the Rain

last book you enjoyed i was enjoying the saunders book. brain just does not cooperate.

last book you hated reading i’d have to have read something to hate it

favorite thing to cook/bake either things that are low effort, high reward (my favorite brownie recipe), or things that are high effort to make, which makes it very expensive to buy or source, so i must supply it for myself. the pinnacle of this for me are canneles. my favorite pastry ever, especially fresh. i think i will go make myself some chocolate cake now tho.

favorite craft to do i’ve been very into knitting since i started last year. so far i’ve completed: a scarf for myself, a hat and scarf for my friends’ toddler, a shawl for my mom, a hat for me. working on: a shawl for me, a sweater for me, a cowl for a friend. 

most niche dislikes the phrase “have a good one” feels too vague for me. though i’ve mellowed on it somewhat over the years. i hate bell peppers. i think they ruin anything they’re in. traffic lights on roads where the speed limit is 40+ mph. (which is like in many places in the US, but god, it’s horrible trying to stop in the right time/place for the red at that speed without slamming the brakes.)

opinion on circuses i don’t know enough about present day circuses to have an opinion, tbh. might have to go change the “last thing you googled” answer shortly.

Do you have a sense of direction and if not what’s the worst way you’ve gotten lost? i think i do! i don’t think i’ve ever gotten lost real bad, but i’ve been unable to find something and had to wander. i was in shanghai for an overnight layover and made the mistake of leaving the airport without getting cash. you couldn’t buy metro tickets without cash and we needed to get to our hotel. it was about 9pm. i wandered around the airport train station looking for an atm google maps was telling me was nearby while my dad waited with our luggage. couldn’t find it. had to find the nearest bank. jammed my card in the wrong slot and almost lost it inside the machine. a pair of nail clippers in my backpack saved me. i managed to use them like tweezers to pull the card out. finally got money. but on top of that, uh, let’s say the airplane food was not agreeing with me. so. it was a difficult hour for me. i never travel without nail clippers now.

last show you watched gamechanger, a game show where the game changes every time. it’s on dropout.tv and you should look up clips on youtube if you need a laugh.

currently watching nothing, but probably the sandman is next on my list.

currently reading nothing omg. i’m even between fics.

current obsessions welcome to mountport. eva noblezada. my backyard stray cat. finishing my ex-wireless fic. trying to figure out the ideal shampoo/conditioner situation for my head. this drarry fic that's a wip. every thing i talked about above. you know, normal things.

i'm just tagging people for attention. let's be transparent about this. do it if you feel like it!! @makeitp1nk @phoebe-delia @basicallyahedgehog @sorrybutblog @m0srael @cavendishbutterfly @corvuscrowned (who i know is away but 🤷🏻‍♀️)

[keilemlucent]

So I saw that your requests were open and was wondering if you could do some aftercare with Hawks? Like after a really intense scene and the reader is out of it for awhile so Hawks just patiently helps them come back into reality?

ugh anon, you got me on this one. i truly love a good aftercare fic, and i really love reading fics with bdsm elements!! i combined a bit into here <3 there may be some inaccuracies, but nonetheless, enjoy this little number!! 

word count: ~2.4k

warnings: bdsm scene, a bit of degradation, praise kink, aftercare, fluff, fluff, avian keigo (think ‘best nest’-verse)

scene & stop:

||||||||||||||||||||

Keigo had set a brutal pace long ago, as he usually did. Twisting, pulling and pushing you faster than you could fathom or keep track of. You’d stopped trying to make sense of it all when Keigo had hauled you up by your feather-bound wrist, arching your back into a painful curve and stuffing you full of his cock to the point where it was almost difficult to breathe.

You loved every moment of it. 

“Oh baby,” Each rhythmic slap of skin seared across your gooey mind. Keigo’s voice, sweet despite the force of his actions, washed over. “Look at you, always such a good cock sleeve for me when I ask, huh?”

You could only make yourself whine, any answer feeble and small in the back of your throat. Most of your conscious effort was going into bracing your thighs, keeping yourself upright and poised against Keigo’s grip and the feather nearly vibrating on your sore clit. 

His wings beat the air with each thrust, filth slipping from his lips, long-since saturating your psyche. It was nasty, undeniably, all of the words dripping over you in time with Keigo’s harsh breath and bites over your shoulders. 

“Come on, dove, use those pretty lips to tell me how good my cock feels,” Keigo growled against the shell of your ear. “I know they’re more useful when my cock is down your throat, but I guess I’ll settle.”

You swallowed, shuddering a particularly harsh thrust that hit your deepest insides, “I-It feels really good, sir, v-very good.”

“Oh, ‘sir’? How polite.” A laugh colored his tone, mocking and high. You whimpered, lost in the speed of sensations, almost drowning in it if not for Keigo’s constant touch and words. “You really are just a fucked-out, fuck toy, huh?”

His hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing the sides of your neck with just enough pressure to make you go nicely hazier. You were quickly shoved into the bed, back still arched, hands still bound, but this time with your face smushed against the sheets, whimpers and mewls muffled by the silks and satin. All the aches and pretty cruelties went right to your cunt, spent and dripping.

Keigo’s pace turned harsher, faster even still. You drank all of it in, feeling your whines break into cries and sobs as the sheets below you soaked with tears and spittle.

“Awwww, is my needy birdie crying?” Keigo sneered above you, a sharp slap coming down on the flesh of your ass. It stung, burned through you like a divine iron. “That’s cute. Too bad.”

He had warned you he was in a particularly nasty mood-- not that you minded too much. The pain and aches mixed with the hot pleasure over your body, stripping you down to just raw nerves.

You both loved it.

Keigo had to be getting close, the feather circling and lapping at your clit getting more erratic and shaky with the pace of Keigo’s hips. You vaguely recognized it through the fog, a new stream of tears dripping down your cheeks. The bruising of Keigo’s cockhead against your cervix was almost too much, but you held out.

It all ended abruptly.

Keigo dragged your weeping face from the duvet, almost contorting your body with the amount of pressure and strength he was exerting. With a few pointed thrusts, you shuddered and screamed through your last orgasm, a slow rolling thing after so many other ecstasies preceded it. Keigo came moments later, the shuddering of your gooey cunt around his girth undoubtedly pushing him over the edge.

While he’d been keeping your cumming and cumming and cumming for what had to have been hours, he’d been edging himself, saving his load for when you were completely rung out.

Oh, and you were.

You felt his absence more than you felt him inside you. As he pulled out of you, cooling cum dripped along your inner thighs.

And moments later, you were boneless.

You slipped down against the sheets, feathers and hands removed. You were spinning, high, light and floating. It felt a bit too high, consider you couldn’t feel or hear Keigo.

A new wave of sputtering cries got muffled into the sheets.

“Hey, hey, dove, I’m right here,” Keigo’s voice was so soft compared to the grating cruelty from just moments before. Arm loop around your waist, his face buried into the crook of your neck from behind. “I’ve got you, let me hold you.”

You slowly turned, just enough to bury your face in his chest, and nestle into him the best you could. Keigo linked your sticky legs together, pressing a few kisses to your hairline.

“Gimme some taps, dove,” Keigo urged, nosing into your hair and pulling a thin sheet over the two of you.

Your fingers twitched against his clammy back. 

One tap. Two tap. Three tap. Four taps.

Keigo hummed, “Got you, dove. Thank you for showing me. I’m so proud of you.”

The praise crashed over your melted mind like weighted, lavender-smelling blanket, something grounding and soft to safely hold onto.  

Keigo tended to get particularly tender during aftercare, no matter the scene. It soothed both of your mental aches.

“You did so good, dove,” He purred against your ear, all warm and solid like you needed. You squeezed him, a silent ‘thank you, you too’. 

Keigo blanketed you in sweet everythings, little kisses and the most gentle touches he could muster. You kept your face tucked into his chest, the aftershocks of it all making you shiver against him. It felt safest to keep your face hidden from view. 

Though, with each passing moment, you felt yourself floating less and less. 

Keigo, surprisingly, was patient, particularly in moments like these, with you, that required the mutual bearing-of-souls. 

You slowly peered him up him, hardly pulling away much. Despite how clammy and sticky you felt, being near Keigo meant you were safe and okay. 

“There’s my dove,” Keigo beamed down at you, giving you the sweetest, warmest type of smile. He peppered kisses across your face, kissing away the few stray tears that remained. “You’re beautiful, you know that? Especially when you’re all marked-up and sweet for me.”

You rolled your eyes, not ready for any sort of words yet, but you have just enough spunk to nose at his jaw, nipping near his stubble. He’s quick to rub his hands up and down your sides, trading your little teasing for a whole heap of kisses and squeezes.

“I love you, dove, god, you did so well,” Keigo crooned, nearly crushing you against him. “Can I help you out a bit, clean you up a little? We can take a bath after, use one of those bath bombs we got?”

You nodded, tucking into his neck again to speak, voice hoarse and dry, “Please.”

He squeezed you, giving a happy nod. 

Keigo’s feathers fluttered off, a tap running in the nearby bathroom. There was a water bottle, chilled, pressed into your hand, already opened.

You tipped it back, drinking down whatever your dehydrated body would take. Keigo’s hand stayed over your own, keeping the bottle to your lips and then pulling it away, “Little sips, love. Don’t want to hurt your tummy.”

True, your guts were more than rearranged, your insides definitely feeling a bit out of wack. You were sure they’d settle, especially after some more water, time, and a nice bath. Keigo would always treat you to your favorite delivery takeout when you were done with scenes. The thought set you smiling, nuzzling into the side of his neck to show what you felt, even if you couldn’t say it quite yet. 

The water was taken away, placed on a bedside table. Keigo kissed the tip of your nose, “Just give me some taps if you want more.”

You nodded, leaning back into the comfort of his embrace.

Keigo took a soft looking towel from a returning feather, repositioning you to lay as he wanted. It was a bit too exposed, but you kept a solid hold on his shoulders. 

Gently, he wiped away the cum and slick that stickied your thighs. He cooed some praises as he idly talked through the scene as well, his own form of aftercare. You listened the best you could, humming and pressing harder against him to show you’d heard him. 

He knew you well enough to know that that was your best way to show love in such a state.

After cleaning you, Keigo paused, tossing the dirty towel into a hamper, “Would you like to take that bath still?”

You nodded, sitting up, though Keigo was quick to assist your, wings fluttering and settling, tucked into his back. It was clear why he did as you winced, muscles across you body burning hot with new, bright aches.

“Aw, dove, I’ll carry you, ” Keigo cooed in the back of his throat. Quickly sliding and scooping you into his arms. “Don’t strain yourself.”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, tucking you against his chest and carrying you to the bathroom.

Setting you down, you lingered around his neck. Lacking that grounding physical was always scary after a scene, especially one that was so long and intense. 

Keigo, ever-observant, caught your hand to squeeze it, “Do you want a feather to hold onto while I set things up, love?”

You nodded, a feather quickly coming to rest on your bare lap. Your own nakedness, the awareness of it, surprised you. 

You looked to Keigo with glassy eyes. He flashed you a sympathetic look, squeezing your shoulders, “Just gotta grab the bath stuff, then you’ll be getting all the cuddling in the world, angel.”

You trust him.

He was as fast as possible, darting into a bathroom drawer, dubbed the ‘aftercare drawer, for a few supplies. As promised, a few colorful, fragrant bath bombs, a bottle of luxury bubblebath (somehow, you had no idea, fused with Keigo’s calming avian pheromones), a bar of warm-smelling, skin-softening soap, along with a few different bottles of massage oil (and, of course, Keigo’s bottle of wing oil if he was in that particularly mushy mood).

Carefully, he brought an armful of supplies back, feathers carrying the rest to the thick rim of the massive soaker tub. It was opulent, pretty marble that might as well have been the size of hot tub. It was made specifically to accommodate Keigo’s wings, long before you were in the picture. Still, the two of you fit well in it, snug together in your precious moments.

You chose one of the bath bombs from the stack, one that you spit rainbows across the bathwater as you unceremoniously plunked it into the tub.

Keigo snorted from the bathtubs edge, checking the temperature with his hand, “Nice toss.”

“Thank you,” Your voice was quiet again, but not as meek. You squeezed Keigo’s feather in between your hands. 

Keigo could, of course, do most of what he needed to with his feathers. But, with you, especially in these softer, slower moments, he wanted to do them on his own, with his own hands.

It was a sweet gesture, all for you.

Keigo dumped in a few healthy gulgs of a bubble bath, foam rising on the top of the water. You watched, mesmerized by the colors and textures. 

So mesmerized, you hardly noticed Keigo leave the room and return, kneeling down in front of you and offering the water-bottle once more.

You stared at for a moment, slowly taking it from his hand, softly speaking once more, “Little sips.”

“Perfect, dove, perfect,” Keigo shined you the sweetest smile as you took a few little sips, the feather from your lap darting to turn off the bathtub’s faucet. His wings were settled against back, desperately need a bit of preening, but still happily twitching and vibrating with Keigo in his own relaxed state.

You set the bottle down, Keigo kneeling in front of you to scan you down, “I don’t see any places where I broke skin, but once we get in, tell me if anything stings, okay?’

You nodded complacently. Keigo, ever-dutiful, cupped your cheeks and gave you a quick smattering of kisses before helping you into the frothy bathwater.

The water was hot, maybe a little too hot, but you didn’t mind. The heat rolled against your aching muscles, soothing you. 

Keigo slipped in the tub behind you, wings extended out and up to avoid the suds. It was the usual routine, Keigo immediately pulling you to his chest, toned thighs framing your own while his arms made their home around your mid section.

You leaned into him, all of you, mind, body and spirit. Cheek against the dew of his chest, you let your eyes go half-lidded, slowly but surely allowing the heat of Keigo’s touch and the comfort of the water around you bring you back to lucidity.

Sometime later, you weren’t sure how long, you finally spoke.

“Love you, Keigo, thank you,” Your voice was still scratchy, overused with tears. It was a bit endearing, apparently, based on the way Keigo chuckled and squeezed your waist.

“Anytime, dove,” Keigo hummed against your ear. He rocked you two slightly, little ripples hitting the sides of the tub. “Do you want a massage after this? I can imagine you’re a little bit sore, huh?”

“‘A little bit’?” You craned your neck to frown at him. “I dunno, Kei’, I think I can confidently say you’ve made good on your promise that I ‘won’t be walking straight for a month’?”

Of course, Keigo had his rougher moods that left you more than sexually wrecked, sore in new, deep places, but he had plenty of softer ones as well. He was adaptable and fickle, and you were happy to ride the waves of his preferences as he harmonized with your own. Sure, that meant that sometimes, you were wordless for an hour or so, needy and burning, but god, you fucking loved it.

Keigo squeezed you, burying his face into your neck, and whispering a few small words, “You okay?

You just had to reassure Keigo, as quietly insecure as he was.

“More than, it was really, really good,” You sighed against him, littering his stubbly jawline with kisses. “You just gotta carry me around a bit. A massage might be in order. I can preen your wings, if you’d like?”

The extended feathers shuddered in a wave as Keigo nodded, any of his own subtle shyness fading as he returned your affections.

You fell into each other, far differently from your recent hours of hot pleasure and pain, satisfied and safe in each others arms. Keigo cooed and hummed a simple melody as you let your pains begin to fade, lulled, safe, and sated.

[shyrose57]

Oooo maybe some real life plants! but they are .. off somehow, I think that the end should mostly keep its dull very color drained vibes so the colorful things just seem more. So the greens are so gray you could barely call it green, and for subsitute water? Maybe liquid magic. Becasue this place has to run off of magic, they are floating over a void...

SPACE WHALES! Flying Rays, JellyFish! A lot of deep sea horrors fit very nicely into space horrors (and wonders bc I'll cry if the whales are mean :( ) and would do nicely to fill the endless stretches of just void with no land in sight. and Anglerfish... maybe not a fish, or floating in the void like the others but something land bound that uses a hypnotic lure? It lures you in with the feeling of safety and home. There is a reason that the abandoned cities where off the ground :)

Anyways floating over a void, the end (in my head canon) is the source of all magics in Mc (all the planes are connected and it diffuses into the other dimensions, but it is SATURATED in everything in the end, the dragon is pure magic, a manifestation of the end itself, so a lot of things there are magic or sustain themselves on magic (things that stay there (live over generations n stuff our group is fine) get warped by it which could be how over world plants got in there and established themselves, they would not survive in the over world any longer, the sun would kill them, their roots would thirst to death on water. they have magical properties, some of them glow. ) Though there are a lot of End Native plants too (the trees that are only trees when you stretch the definition, that thing that Moves, and has what you could only call teeth but it is not an animal, so it must be a plant) Oooooo maybe the warped fungus ;) I mean everything in the nether is terrified of it, so maybe it doesnt really belong there, and hitched a ride on fleeing endermen

A lot of things glow, (its how we have those stars in the end, they are creatures off in the distance, and whenever the wastelands that stretch on for miles give way to not-trees or shrub-lands, something is gonna glow, which gives the areas eerie shadows that make the wide vulnerable wastelands they came from seem safer than whatever is found in there. The magic running in the rivers sometimes spill out into the abyss and dissipates to start the cycle anew. Things lurk everywhere and kind things are few and far between. The End is full of Life, and That Is Horrifying

Endermen are nomadic and travel in haunts (Im taking this from Human Error :D), and are generally friendly until you look into their eyes (Eyes are windows to the soul, how can they bear to look at you? You are so bright, so Warm. It Sears their eyes, It Burns their very being. Stop looking, It Hurts. Stop Stop Stop-) They are willing to trade and talk Enchanting (So All 3 Dimensions have a Sentient Race :DD) and are very magically inclinded. A lot of mages are endermen or have ender blood in them. The end is very deadly, and Haunts keep eachother alive because their death could mean death of the group (they are very close knit and that leads to very protective (what Im saying is when Tubbo gets back his Husband is going to smother him and fret over one of the 3 members of his Haunt (Tubbo, Michael, and Tommy :) )) when One finds themself without a haunt, many try and find safety in the other dimensions as they will not survive alone in the end.

( I Have more ideas, but the more I think the more I make more and I already think im dumping a lot, so sorry if I wrote too much. I tried to break up the text wall to to make it easier)

Oh, that's a good idea! Mainly dull colors-especially for the more dangerous plants, they'd need to blend in to catch their food. I feel like there'd be some more colorful ones though-the chorus fruits are pretty saturated, after all. Maybe purple colors are brighter, and others are more dull? Or no?

So many space creatures, oh gosh. There'd be very few grounded ones, with so much of the End being void, so sea-based creatures are definitely a good call. That'd be so pretty too?? And we've gotta blur the line between space wonder and eldritch horror for at least a few of them, of course!

The jelly fish are absolutely huge! Massive and glowing through transparent skin, they mainly hang out far from the islands, being mistaken as stars, and their tendrils glow so faintly you can only see them up close. From a distance, they're beautiful, but up close they're terrifying.

Flying rays the size of horses that can be used to cross the void between islands like striders for lava?? Flying rays that's tips fade into an abyssal black so deep it looks they merge into the void? Flying rays with a possible relation to phantoms? Seeking out the sleepless, but only watching, merely drawn to lure them to sleep with the mesmerizing patterns that run along their bodies.

Space whales!!!! Titans so ancient and old, parts of their bodies are overgrown by End islands and forest, making them for all purposes, living, breathing islands. Magic so deeply tied to them that even when they pass, they remain afloat, creating graveyards of still islands, that even still seem to breath when stepped upon. Gentle giants in that they are untouched by anything, and so curious of the new wonders the void welcomes.

A thing that stalks the islands it inhabits, singing out a call that seems ripple across the starry expanse-it sounds like love and warmth and understanding, and it says i love you, the universe loves you, in the same way the poem must rung in your ears, must nestle under your ribs. Love, love, love, it croons. Except then you get too close, and it catches you, and the sound is empty and hollow, and it's grip is tight, and nothing leaves it's arms or island alive, drained of life and magic.

Safety is only in that it is bound to the land, and no creature dares approach it, instinctively knowing of the danger. The islands that even the stars avoid...

Magic dragon?? Yes! Manifestation of the End?? That means it must somehow know how to take the appearance of one. Maybe smaller little space dragons, that play among the bones of the long-gone giant ones. The Ender Dragon isn't as large as they might've been, but it mimics the appearance as best it can-I wonder why. How long has it had that egg, again? How long has it waited for it to hatch?

So we can totally have some of the minecraft plants end-ified! Ooh, and since some adventurers probably brought them there to maybe try surviving in the End, there'd be things like crops and weeds and grass, long mutated as they grow along the ruins of what might've been a home once. E N D M O S S. It glow.

Warped fungus!! But more! Because this one wouldn't have ever been to the Nether, never mutated in such a way. It's home, but somehow, it still feels so very alien to those that look upon it. Maybe no orange?? Orange is Nether-color. Darker blue, or more purple-ish, possibly.

Everything is luminescent. The things that aren't are much more dangerous than the things at are, don't stare into the dark for too long-it might start looking back, and trust me, you don't want that :).

The Endermen Know they are not supposed to be here, even if the newcomers do not Stare with all of the heat and warmth and burn. One may bear the Wings, and two may speak their language, but they are too soft, and colorful, and bright, but not glowing. They are Outsiders, and Outsiders must go home.

Because nothing good comes from those that stay-how do you think that thing knows the universe's lullaby?

They ally with the four, if only to save themselves, but the Outsiders grow on them. Maybe they will visit, but the Outsiders must stay out.

(Ranboo does not let his Haunting out of his sight for awhile. Tommy and Michael too yes, but mainly Tubbo and Phil. They could have strayed too far, they could have not come back. He doesn't Know in the same way the others do, but even he is aware of what he could lose, and what could become)

(Tell me A L L of them, I beg of you)

[mryddinwilt]

A Bridgerton Rant

Not that I needed encouragement to rant but @constantvigilante here we go... 

First lets talk background as I think it matters for how I experienced Bridgerton. I read extensively in the Regency Romance genre. Like at least 20 books a year if not more. I have read and not particularly enjoyed 2 1/2 Bridgerton novels. I am a huge Jane Austen fan. I am writing my own Regency romance series and have done a lot of research into the time period. I also adore historic dramas of any time period. 

I should be the target audience for this series. 

Except I’m not. 

Bridgerton is not a show for Regency aficionados, Janeites, or costume drama fans. It is a show specifically designed NOT to be a “regular” period drama. A show that from it’s costumes, to it’s characters, and story telling, is actively trying to break the mold. 

But I LIKE the mold! 

I desperately want more shows and series like the 1995 P&P or North and South or even Downton Abbey (which for all its soapiness is still a show grounded in a historical period). Instead I get Bridgerton. 

Bridgerton with it’s hyper-saturated colors, it’s ridiculous dialogue, it’s vague historic period, and general fantasy feeling. Bridgerton, which feels so far from the Regency period that it might as well be a spin-off of Reign. The worst thing is that since Bridgerton is successful it will encourage copycats and diminish the chance of having good period dramas in the future. I just googled “Best Period Dramas” and Bridgerton was top of the list. Ugh. 

To be fair this problem does not start with Bridgerton. It’s just part of a larger trend in the costume drama genre. I’m just grumpier about it because it’s Regency romance. This year gave us two Jane Austen adaptations in Sanditon and Emma. and both had elements of the issues that plague Bridgerton though neither at the same scale. 

So what did I not like? Buckle up buttercup here we go.

General Ahistorical-ness- The series tries to center itself in a specific time period, they even give us the year 1813, and then proceed to ignore the time period. No mentions of Napoleon, a guy that at the very least the Prince would care about since Bonaparte is killing all his countrymen while he dances with Daphne. We get Queen Charlotte but no Prince Regent (the guy the period is named for) or any of the other royals. No mention of the War of 1812 or the Peninsular War. No mention of anything that would ground it in a place or time. Compare this to something like Poldark or Outlander where the characters are actively engaged in the world they live in. Bridgerton doesn’t exist in the Regency world, it just put on the trappings of it.

Ungrounded/Fantasy (except when it’s not)- I do think that the ungrounded nature of the story is on purpose.  We are meant to be swept away into this fantasy land of pretty dresses, hot dukes, pop-music ballrooms, and consequence free sex (for the guys at least) Even the weather gives us a vague “summer” feeling (never mind that the London season took place in the Winter and into Spring and that by summer everyone was out of the capital because it was hot and stinky). I have argued before that the literary Regency romance genere is way more fantasy than reality and this aspect is in the books. So I guess I shouldn’t knock it for this. EXCEPT they had to go and add the pregnant debutante subplot.

The books don’t have a subplot about a girl needing to marry fast because she is pregnant because lbh it’s too real for a light romance read with a fake dating plot. By adding it the show just highlights the bizarre fantasy of the Bridgerton world. Maria (is that her name?) is literally shown the “poor people” to encourage her to get married fast. If we are going to be in fantasy lets live in the fantasy. Like the cartoonish element and the half-hearted commitment to a time period it creates a dissonance for me.

Costumes- A ton of work and effort was put into the costumes and they are in many way beautiful. But they are also just pure aesthetic. Bright colors (very bright), overblown trim, not a bonnet in sight (I cannot say how much this annoys me). This was not a case of not knowing the period but a stylistic choice. They kept a Regency silhouette but actively used colors, fabrics, and the like that had not even been invented by 1813. Contrast this with Emma. where they gave us a very bright aesthetic while also being highly accurate to the time period (like ridiculously accurate costumes). 

Dances and music- Literally it’s Reign all over again. From the type of random couple dancing to the use of pop music covers by a string quartet. Bonus we get an outdoor ball at Vauxhall... guess the actual building with the ballroom was full.. smh. The choices are deliberate. They don’t want it to feel like a Regency ball room. Too which I ask “Then what is the point of the historical setting?” 

Proprieties- They ignore all the rules of the time. Except when they need them to move the plot forward. For example Simon and Daph have to marry because the scandal of them being caught in the garden. But they were alone in several other scenes in circumstances that, at the time, would have caused the same scandal. There are lots of other instances but I imagine they are the kinds of little things that only someone obsessed with the genre notices. Also no bonnets or hats of any kind...shocking!  Cartoonish- I found the whole thing to be a caricature of the time. The costumes, over saturated colors, and bad CGI of buildings contributed to this. But there were also scenes like “ the gentleman callers” that showed massive rooms just filled with guys holding presents as a means to telegraph “this girl is popular”. Because subtlety is dead in this version of a “period drama”. This could have worked if they were going for an over the top “Importance of Being Earnest” (with Firth and Everett) vibe. But the acting and script were played straight so it was dissonant. I felt like they wanted me to really believe that this was how things worked back then.   All Regency girls are prudes- I know this is an artifact from the original novels but I feel the show plays it up by having Eloise be like “but how is a baby made” and making it a plot point that girls are left in the dark. Eloise’s mother had her babies at home and she would likely have seen farm animals. Plus girls then would be told exactly how and why to guard their virtue and would have experienced other women being pregnant. 

Look I get that most people think that sex education was minimal back then but the truth is that they had erotic novels, drawings, sex manuals, and the upper class were more sexually liberated than is generally thought. Anthony sleeping with an opera singer is accurate. But it would be equally accurate for Lady Bridgerton to have a guy she met up with on the regular just for sex. The upper class weren’t prudes. Like there was a trend for awhile where the women would wear white gowns and get them damp so they were practically translucent. They did this at dinner parties. The Georgians (the Regency occurs at the end of the Georgian period) were not the Victorians. 

Okay that’s probably enough. I only got halfway through episode 4 so there are likely other things I could quibble with (and I am well aware that some of this is quibbling). I am glad that other people like the show. I’m happy they are happy. But I really hope that the next Regency related media I see is not more of the same. So help me if the new Persuasion starts being marketed as “edgy” or a “reimagining” I just might cry. 

[insomniac-dot-ink]

Lost Time

It was half past eight on a Monday and I was running late. I was known for being late as well as scatter-minded and it was an image I had been trying to combat since I was a young girl.

However, that didn’t change the fact that I had already missed the 8:30 train and the 8:20 one before that. I stood on the platform with the usual suspects of businessmen in charcoal dark suits, middle-aged moms on their way to the market with overly large floral-print tote bags, and a few highschoolers who looked just as late I was with a bruised-eyed emptiness about them.

I bounced on my heels as I waited and checked my watch every few minutes. I had been given several warnings so far about tardiness at my office job and while I wasn’t exactly thrilled about quality control work I was less thrilled about the prospect of being fired.

I texted my workplace friend about covering for me and then I checked my watch again.

For not the first time I missed university and the ideal of sleeping through whatever classes I didn’t care for and sneaking in a few minutes late to any lectures I actually did. My older sister kept insisting I was lucky I had gotten a job right out of college at all, but there was no helping it. It all sort of sucked.

The monotony was almost as bad as the knowledge that monotony was my future: pure predictable, clockwork knowledge of what I might be doing a month from now. And then a year from now. And the year after that.

I bounced on my heels and checked my watch for the third time. It was a leather watch with a round handsome face and a worn strap- my father had given it to me right before the Alzheimer's set in when I was around seventeen.

We hadn’t “lost” him, but we did lose the man I grew up with.

That was how I remembered that morning: thinking about Monday and work and my father’s watch which kept ticking much slower than I would have liked it to.

Maybe things would have been different if my work friend had texted me back faster or if I had woken up earlier or if I hadn’t bothered to wake up and go to work at all that morning.

I bounced in place and just as I was about to look down at my watch again a hand shot out and grabbed my wrist. “Ah,” I jumped and swung around to start shouting at whoever it was or the very least pull away from the stranger manhandling me on a public platform.

I hesitated when an old woman looked back at me. She was small, and had neat grey hair swept back into a tidy bun and a hunched back with wide, heavyset shoulders. She was lined with deep wrinkles and had clear blue eyes that struck me as somehow attractive and open.

She smiled mildly at me and her cool hand was still wrapped around my wrist as I faced her. I wrinkled my nose slightly as the scent of something like chlorine hit me over the head. It was a saturated sharp kind of chemical smell.

“Excuse me,” the old woman spoke in the same tidy manner as her look. “May I borrow some of your time?” I frowned deeply as I suspected she was about to break out a bible and start a pitch for either Jesus Christ or some new age church of cardinals or weed or paying them money or whatever.

I drew back, “I’m sorry.” I tried to glance at my watch but it was still in her grip. “I gotta get to work.” “It won’t take long at all. No trouble for you, I promise.” She said and her voice was similarly friendly, high-pitched, and reminded me somewhat of a cricket.

The chemical smell funneled through my system and I tried to politely hold my breath. “Sorry. The train is about to come and I really can’t miss it.” “We have time.” She said slowly. “It will only be for a bit and won’t cost you a cent.” I sighed heavily and looked around to check if anyone there noticed me being accosted by the elderly, but no one even batted an eye in our direction. “Are you selling something?” “No.” She said suredly. “I know this sounds a little forward, but I’m trying to find someone and I could use some help.” “Huh.” I blinked a couple times and chewed on my bottom lip; I weighed my options carefully for just a moment more and then met her syrupy blue gaze. “Just looking for someone, yeah?” I exhaled slowly. “Alright. Sure.” Her smile grew wide and candied sweet. She released my wrist and I swore a popping sound erupted through the air and sent a shiver down my spine.

“But I really can’t do it right n-” I didn’t finish my sentence as the train whooshed onto the platform and I stumbled backward. When I turned to tell the old lady I would have to help her later, she was gone.

I sniffed loudly and rubbed at my wrist before hurrying aboard my morning train and trying not to get stuck on any of the details. It was Boston, sometimes weird people talked to you.

And you tried to forget them. At least, at the time I hoped to forget her and get to work without being noticed or reprimanded again.

--------------------

It was two months into December and I had a head cold like nobody's business. I hadn’t been able to breath out of my left nostril since the day before and I missed her dearly, as you would a best friend or lover.

Cold sheets of rain had been coming down in slushy torrents for days now and I had spent hours the week before helping move my roommate out. She had finally decided to go all the way with her questionable boyfriend and move in with him despite the old pizza crust smell and missing fire escapes in his neighborhood. But he had both a car and a netflix account.

I was happy for her up until I helped her move a couch in the pouring ice-rain and woke up the next day with the feeling of a balloon inflating in my sinuses. 

I went to work all the same in an effort to make management get off my back about the number of days I had missed. The world was a slow motion mess of dayquil and painkillers by the time I was finally able to head home in a daze. I produced kleenex after kleenex out of my purse as I traveled, like a magic trick where no one was impressed.

I was rocking gently back and forth in the train when my head pounded slightly and my nose cleared up for just a moment. I would have hit the air with my fist right then in victory if not for the sharp scent of chlorine that washed over me.

The uncomfortable sterile smell that reminded me of storms and sucking on copper pennies.

My eyes darted left and right to check if anyone had noticed, but the train was filled with pencil-skirt ladies on their phones typing away, school children with ipads out, and a homeless man softly snoring in one of the seats.

I massaged the bridge of my nose and hurried the rest of the way home with more kleenexes produced and thoughts of nyquil on my mind. I was surely too sick to be cogent I figured and becoming slightly delirious.

I slipped into my now one-person apartment, ate canned noodle soup, and tucked myself to sleep in my thickest sweatpants and sweater. It should have been over then, but it wasn’t.

I had dreams, and not the type of dreams I had ever had before. Dark shadows shifted and oozed under me, bright neon colors popped in my vision, stars exploded left and right and nonsense voices babbled in the distance.

It was like the confusing scene in Dumbo with the pink elephants singing except I didn’t even get to be drunk for it. And then the scent of chemicals came wafting through my head space and I exhaled from somewhere deep inside of me and everything went as blank as a canvas.

There was no proper way to describe it except the unclenching of every muscle in my body after a long day or letting go of a kite and watching it sail away with the wind. I let go of thousands of jumbled images and sounds and then I blinked again and I was staring at the night sky.

It was hard to process for a long hard second and harder to come to grips with the cold air against my flushed cheeks and the crevice moon up above. My muscles complained at me dully, but besides that my body was limber and I noticed I could breathe again.

I inhaled through both nostrils and when I sat up I realized I was in some sort of barren field. I gawked at the empty rows and dirt on my hands and the fact I could barely make out any city lights in the distance.

I hadn’t left Boston in months and I didn’t remember getting off my couch that night. Or driving. Or walking. Or bundling myself up in my heavy pink coat and lying down in a field.

I flexed slightly and noticed a tingling in my fingers and dirt on my knees and palms. I had been doing something as well.

I searched my person for a moment and was relieved to find no injuries, but also no clues. My coat pockets were completely empty and my only guiding source of information was that I was in a field and I wasn’t sick anymore.

I even sniffed the air for chlorine, but there was nothing but faint winter chill.

I took a deep breath and stood up after a few minutes and began to walk toward the city lights. It was a long walk and I went back and forth in my head on whether to take myself to the hospital and ask about sleep walking disorders.

On the other hand I remembered my father’s long struggle with in-patient care, his empty gaze as more nurses talked to him in gentle tones, and wheeled him around the blank white halls. I remembered the tears as he seemed to lose my face and then my mom’s face and birthdays and places and names like party balloons being popped. The hospital smell made me nauseous just thinking about and it had only been one night. 

Just one night didn’t mean anything.

I ended up finding change in the back pocket of my jeans and taking the 6am bus home from Northampton all the way to my apartment. I didn’t sleep well for days after that.

--------------------- I chalked the first time up to a weird combination of flu medicine, stress at work, and maybe even losing my roommate that week. And for awhile it seemed like a dream that someone else had.

For awhile.

It was February when the feeling crept back in. I couldn’t explain it, but I started checking hallways before I turned the corner and examining strangers faces twice if they sat next to me. I put bowls of water by my door so I might step in them and wake myself if I started sleep walking again.

Or perhaps someone else would step in them on their way in. I tried not to dwell on that last thought- no matter how many times it nagged at me.

There was a sensation of sickness in my gut and I couldn’t get rid of it. It was February and I was sitting on my couch watching some nothing TV show my mom recommended to me and just like before, something unclenched.

The kite was released and I blinked and there was an absolute nothingness so fine that I could have drowned in it. Been eaten by it, been destroyed by it.

And I blinked once and I was standing in the grocery store holding an egg carton and practically gagging on chlorine stench lodged in my mouth. “Ack.” I dropped the eggs to the floor and they splattered like firecrackers on the Fourth of July.

I started breathing heavily and clutching at my chest, several concerned shoppers stopped and looked my way as I leaned on my cart for support. The cart was completely filled with cartons of eggs.

I ran outside only to find I was just a few blocks from my apartment building. I sprinted home and when I tripped my way up my stairs, wheezing and eyes streaming, there was a single spilled bowl of water on the floor.

I melted into the carpet and shook slightly as I looked at it. Something had been in my apartment. Or else I had kicked it myself during the weird trance.

But it didn’t matter either way. I couldn’t remember.

---------------------

I finally went to the doctor with a complaint of memory problems and we met with a neurologist with iron-grey hair and a busy tie. He checked my pupil dilation and ability to track objects with my eyes. He tested my reflexes and had me remember colors and numbers in certain orders.

My mom came with me for the appointment and glanced at me every few minutes. She didn’t say anything, but I could read the thoughts on her face: it’s already got her too.

Maybe my mom thought she was cursed. But when all of my tests came back negative for any brain abnormalities she exhaled and I didn’t.

It got worse from there. I would wake up blocks from my house holding an umbrella I didn’t own, wake up with leaves and sticks in my hair, be walking down the street one second and then be in a completely different part of town on a park swing the next.

I started putting more bowls of water around my house and added bells and stacks of books and even a few stray mouse traps around the windows (one of which actually caught a mouse). Most nights there was nothing but gnawing silence and I waited and waited for the smell of ozone.

The smell of storms and pools and airplanes right when you get off. 

I blinked up at my dark ceiling and waited. It only happened once; I heard the bell: the chiming silver bell with all of my worst fears and highest anxieties pressed to it. I turned over in bed to grasp for my phone or a baseball bat or anything at all.

But then I unclenched. The world popped and the nothingness took hold with a profound sudden swallowing sensation.

And I blinked again and I was standing on the very top of a hotel building with cars honking down below and a fire exit open behind me. I looked down and I was holding a TV antenna in one hand and a spoon in the other.

“Goddammit!” I threw both of the items down on the ground and started pulling on my hair. “You can’t keep doing this to me!” I screamed at nothing, “I have a life! I never agreed to this.”

But somehow, I remembered I had.

---------------

I quit my job. I hated the endless spreadsheets and conference calls and management deadlines, so it wasn’t much of a loss. But everyone I knew asked “what’s next?” with big eager smiles and I stopped returning their calls after a while.

I stopped sleeping. I started prowling the streets like a cramped zoo animal with nowhere to go. It was late spring by then and the city was stinking with hot bodies and burning trash and my own simmering violent questions brewing under the surface.

What’s happening to me? I wanted to scream at someone, but didn’t want to have to return to the hospital. Why me?

There were no answers, only the endless strips of pavement and my red converse slapping against them. Fifth street: two young boys biking with matching helmets and noisily chewing gum that they blew into fat pink bubbles. Washington Street: cop pulling over a teacher with thick glasses and a hard look on her face as she got out of her vehicle.

South End: a busy farmers market with women in overalls selling backyard kimchi and a man with a beard almost down to his waist selling gourmet chocolates and homemade beer. Noisy, busy, yelling, laughing people that streamed past me and barely stopped to look at my blood-shot eyes and trembling hands.

I was well past the farmer’s market and on the seventh day of my trek when I heard it. A high, cricket voice that carried over the buzz of construction work nearby.

“No, no, not like that.” She spoke into a phone briskly. I turned on my heels and everything moved in slow motion and jerky fast images all at once. One second I was staring at an old woman with pleasing blue eyes and then I had her pinned up against the nearest wall with my forearm.

“Police!” She shouted without hesitation or even looking at me. “Police! Someone!”

I hissed through my clenched teeth. “Take it back.” I growled lowly. “Make it normal again.” Her lips peeled into a snarl and she leaned her head against the wall. “That’s not how it works.” And then the smell of chlorine slithered through me and I started to cough.

“No!” I held on with all my might- clenching and gripping and grasping for something I couldn’t name. “Not now! I need-” I gasped, “I need.” The old woman looked blankly at me, but with something that I might have classified as pity. Or despair. “Give it to someone else.” She said in a soft voice. “Pass it off.”

-----------------------

My hair was falling out in thin clumps and I kept wiggling one of my back teeth as it had seemed to have come loose. I had no idea what I had been doing for days by then and no matter how many traps I set it was always the same: crashing bowls and ringing bells and then nothing. Expansive, hungry nothing.

I stood at the train station platform and looked at my watch. I had forgotten to wind it and it had stopped ticking. I looked at it and I bounced on my heels and a young man in his very early twenties stood next to me.

He smelled strongly of aftershave and his suit seemed to swim around him despite being obviously tailored. He had coiffed golden hair and frantic eyes that darted back and forth over the platform.

He looked down at his watch.

I shot my hand out and took his wrist. “Excuse me,” I croaked and tried to get him to look me in the eye. “Can I borrow some of your time?”

[spaceskam]

“What the fuck is that?”

“It’s bleach,” Alex laughed, mixing up the solution in the the little bowl, “Which you would know if you did any fucking research before you dyed your hair last time.”

Forrest pouted for all of two seconds before it slipped into his smile and he rolled his eyes. The color in his hair was starting to fade back into brown and he’d mentioned to Alex that he was going to redye it. Which would’ve been fine until he said the shitty routine he had for doing so. So now Alex had taken over and he honestly didn’t seem bothered by that.

“You sure you’re good with this towel being ruined just in case?” Alex asked as he turned to face him, gloves and bleach brush in hand. Forrest looked up at him with those fucking eyes and nodded.

“I don’t actually mind what you ruin,” Forrest said. Alex rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out at him, both men laughing as Alex started just putting the bleach on him.

It took awhile to saturate it enough because his hair was ridiculously thick, but he eventually did and peeled off his gloves before setting a timer. Alex pushed himself to sit on the counter in front him, giving Forrest a little smile as he braced his prosthetic against one of the drawers.

“We should get dinner after this,” Forrest said, reaching out to touch his bare thigh. It took awhile for him to get comfortable around Forrest, but now that he had, he was obsessed with the way he touched him. It was almost constant, always finding some excuse to touch him with his soft hands that had been smoothed with touching paper every day of his life. It felt like an incentive for Alex to walk around in nothing but briefs and a cropped t-shirt all day. It meant skin to skin contact whenever he wanted it. And he kind of wanted it always so that was a plus.

“Agreed,” Alex nodded, “Maybe we could order takeout?” 

“Are you gonna be too embarrassed by whatever you do to my hair?” Forrest teased, squeezing his thigh gently. Alex shook his head, extending his foot to rest on Forrest’s own thigh. 

“No, I think you’re gonna look hot as hell,” Alex promised, looking between his sweet face watching his hand slide down to grip his calf in a way that felt far too hot to be legal, “But I think I’d rather make-out on the couch than go out.”

“Oh yeah?” Forrest laughed, shaking his head before carefully pressing a kiss to Alex’s knee, “Well, at least you’re honest.”

“I am. I really, really am,” Alex insisted, both of them laughing a little harder as he said so, “But what do you want?”

“Mmm, Chinese food maybe? Lo mein sounds good,” Forrest said. Alex nodded, glancing over to the timer as Forrest continued to rub his leg.

“Can I get something else and then steal some of yours?” Alex asked, reluctantly pulling his leg away from his boyfriend so he could stand back up. Forrest watched him, hands to himself but ready to steady him if he needed it as he put his prosthetic on the ground. He didn’t, but he appreciated the sentiment.

“Absolutely,” Forrest said, “As long as you get something with friend rice.”

“Why would I not get something with fried rice? Do I look like an animal to you?” Alex asked as the timer went off. Forrest stood up from his chair. 

“Well, I mean, not right now.”

“Shut up,” Alex laughed, “Can you wash it out yourself or do you want me to try to help?”

“I got it.”

Alex stood in the doorway as Forrest hunched over the bathtub, using the removable shower head to spray it out. Alex liked looking at him even when he was all hunched over and trying not to get bleach in his eyes. He was warm and inviting and Alex didn’t think there was enough people like him.

Eventually, he stood back at and dried his hair in a half-assed way before he just shook it out like a dog. Alex scoffed as water got on him and swatted him in the stomach. Forrest caught it easily, pulling him a little closer and pressing a kiss to his lips. Alex breathed him in as he kissed back, smiling easily when they parted. 

“Sit down and I’ll get the blow dryer, okay?” Alex said. Forrest nodded, pressing one more kiss to his lips and then his cheek before doing as he was told. Alex felt that newly-familiar wash of being loved genuinely come over him at the small little moment and, instead of pushing it away, he let it sink into his bones and didn’t even try to hide his smile as he plugged in the blow dryer.

For the next ten minutes, Alex tried to dry his hair, continuously running his fingers through the newly bleached locks and being annoyed when it seemed to hold water like a sponge. His annoyance was bled away each time Forrest reached out for him, never pulling him closer since he was doing something, but just touching him because he could. That was nice.

“Stop it, that tickles,” Alex told him over the sound of the blow dryer as Forrest dragged his fingertips right above the hem of his briefs. So, Forrest listened, moving his fingers down a little bit more to trace over the seam of his underwear. Alex giggled, moving his hips just a little bit out of the way. “I’m never going to finish if you keep doing that.”

“Oh, I really think you will.”

“Get your mind out of the fucking gutter, Jesus,” Alex said, but he laughed harder and his face felt warm. His cheeks hurt from smiling. “Okay, it’s dry enough, time for the dye.”

It carried on like before, small touches being dispersed as he worked the bright blue dye into his bleached hair. Alex sat back on the counter after setting another timer to wait, smiling at him helplessly.

“Aren’t you excited to fully explore your young Manic Panic desires?” Alex asked. Forrest rolled his eyes with a laugh and pulled Alex’s good leg back into his lap. He pushed his thumb into the bottom of his foot, slowly started to massage it for no fucking reason. Alex shook his head. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” Forrest said innocently, winking at him as if he didn’t look a little wild with the dye in his hair. Alex shook his head again and huffed a laugh, leaning his head back against the mirror as Forrest continued. “Does that feel good?”

“Yeah.”

“Good, rubbing this part of the foot is supposed to help your heart.”

Alex snorted, “Is there something wrong with my heart that I don’t know about?”

“No, just making sure it’s taken care of.”

“You’re so cheesy,” Alex laughed, but his stomach ached from the attention and his skin started heating up all over again. Forrest shrugged and pulled his foot up to his mouth, kissing the bottom without any hesitant. Alex laughed even louder. “Ew, that’s fucking gross!”

“What?” Forrest said, holding back his laughter as best he could, “My floors are clean.”

“Still,” Alex said, still shaking with laughter. Forrest rolled his eyes and didn’t let go of his leg as he got up and moved closer. He stepped between Alex’s knees, entering that space where he was more than welcome. “I am not kissing you after you kissed my foot.” 

“Fair enough,” Forrest agreed, carefully placing kissing on his shoulder over his shirt and then over his heart. He made sure not to angle it any type of way that he might get dye on Alex’s skin. Maybe Alex moved his head to the side to give him more space. Maybe Forrest noticed and that’s how he ended up kissing on his neck.

“Can you brush your teeth please because I’m going to lose my fucking mind,” Alex breathed, overwhelmed with the need to kiss him but really not interested in the idea of his own foot in his mouth. 

“So picky,” Forrest teased, tapping his index finger against Alex’s nose as he moved to the sink.

Alex sat, feeling a little restless at the lack of contact as Forrest did what he asked and made a point to wash the bottom half of his face for extra measure. He pulled him in for a kiss by his shirt before he could even dry his face off, kissing him. It was a little awkward, both of them trying not to get the dye in his hair on Alex, but it was hard when he just wanted to get his hands on him.

When the timer went off, they both groaned which made them both smile.

“Go wash it out,” Alex urged. Forrest hummed, giving him another peck before peeling away to go to the tub again. 

“I’m just gonna take a shower,” Forrest decided. Alex carefully pushed himself off the bathroom counter again.

“Can I watch?”

“Oh, and I’m the weird one,” Forrest laughed. Alex smiled his way and shrugged. “Go order food, I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Vegetable lo mein?” Alex clarified.

“Yes, please.”

Alex hung around just long enough to watch him strip before leaving him to stain the shower curtain with his hair. He used his phone to order them both food, relaxing on the couch as he waited for Forrest to finish up. The longer it took, the more antsy he got which simply had him smiling to himself so wide it hurt. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so unrelentingly happy with someone else that he felt clingy and it wasn’t even a problem. Forrest was the same way. That was something otherworldly.

“Okay, so, you may have been onto something with the bleach,” Forrest said as he came out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel. Alex gave him his full attention.

His hair was actually blue now, a few shades too light to be navy. It went to his roots and didn’t look like the shitty dye job he’d been rocking. It looked good. Alex stayed on the couch, smiling up at him as he came closer.

“It looks fucking great.”

“Yeah, I know I didn’t dry it or anything, but,” Forrest said, shrugging his shoulders.

“It still looks way better, I did a great job,” Alex bragged. Forrest didn’t even deny it.

“You really did, thank you.”

“No problem, now come here,” Alex said, reaching for him with grabby hands. Forrest gave him a fond look and blew him a kiss.

“Give me one second, I need to go get a pair of shorts so the delivery guy doesn’t get scared,” he said. Alex pouted a little exaggeratedly. “I’ll be right back.”

And he was. He all but ran to his bedroom and Alex laughed a little bit. Within a few seconds, he was running back out with a pair of shorts on and jumped onto the couch and onto Alex. Their laughter mixed in the air as they kissed, Alex pulling him as close as he could. He smelled good, his flowery shampoo and the scent of the dye making something just tasteful enough that Alex couldn’t get him close enough.

“Thank you,” Alex whispered against his lips.

“For what?”

“For making me happy,” he said honestly. Forrest smiled, bumping his nose against Alex’s.

“Thank you for doing the same.”

They had to apologize to the delivery guy who had to knock three times before they heard him.

[illshowyourhurricanes]

He Loves Me

Here, you’ll get another glimpse into the life of one non-gold digger, Mr. Benjamin Greene, in the form of another series of little moments that all leads up to something much bigger. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy!

Image prompt 10: Benjamin Greene x reader (requested by the lovely @breanime)

Rating: PG-13ish for mentions of nudity

Word count: 1712

Tag list: @obscurilicious @the-blind-assassin-12 @something-tofightfor @logan-deloss @lexxierave @madamrogers @yannii04 @gollyderek @carlaangel86 @bicevans @maydayfigment @thisisparadisemylove @ladyofnaps @malionnes @thesandbeneathmytoes @crushed-pink-petals-writes

Follower event tag list: @luminex3 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @witchygagirl @breanime 

If anyone wants to be added to/removed from my tag list, please just send me an ask!

Special thanks to @the-blind-assassin-12 for beta reading a little bit of this one!

This is related to all other Benjamin Greene x reader fics, which can all be found in my masterlist.

You woke up smiling. Eyes swollen from sleep, you rubbed at them with balled up fists, clearing morning residue from the corners. Reaching upward, you wiggled your fingers as you stretched your arms, feeling the overnight stiffness melt away from your fingertips to your shoulder blades. Your eyes were still adjusting to the sunlight streaming in between the slats of the blinds covering your windows. Pale yellow light decorated the floor in long parallel lines, breaking up the shadows. Benjamin’s soft snores as his chest rose and fell were the only sounds hindering the house from complete silence. It was tranquil. Perfect. 

Rolling onto your right side, you admired the beautiful bouquet of flowers Benjamin had surprised you with the night before. It was bright with spring blooms, pink tulips and pure white irises; pale peach miniature roses, striking orchids, and daffodils the color of the bright sunshine. Eucalyptus leaves and tiny blooms of sweet pea and chamomile as fillers, the arrangement was quite fragrant. It was colorful and different; definitely not the typical flower bouquet. 

“I chose them all,” Benjamin had told you just after bursting in the door, the bouquet wrapped in paper, all long stems and pops of color and a kiss in greeting. “Nothing pre-arranged said Y/N.” He offered the bouquet to you, a slight flushing of his cheeks as he did so. “You’re stunning and remarkable and an amalgamation of beautiful things all mixed perfectly.” He nodded to the flowers, tickling your nose with sweet aromas. “They suit you; they're mostly wildflowers.”

Your eyes shone with awe and the threat of tears. The wrapping around Benjamin’s hand-picked array crinkled as you carefully accepted them. “You’ve stolen my words,” you said as you glanced down at the flowers. You’d have time to admire them later, but for the time being you were entirely enamored with Benjamin. “Have I forgotten something? Is today significant?” Your brows knitted together in worry as you searched your mind.

“No,” Benjamin said with a chuckle. “Just a Saturday.” He regarded your face, the top knot you wore your hair in, your old oversized university t-shirt and boxer shorts. “You’ve been working.” It was more of a statement than a question. 

“Just finished,” you replied with a smile. “Thank you. Let’s get them in a vase, yeah?” You held out the flowers for Benjamin to take, freeing your hands so you could rummage in the cupboards under the sink. 

You climbed out of bed quietly, making an effort trying not to wake Benjamin. After making a cup of tea, you rummaged around making little to no noise until you found what you were looking for. Using your drawing board as a makeshift tray, you piled the remainder of your supplies on top: pastel paper, tape, and your collection of Prismacolor pastels, as well as colored pencils to outline. Your cup of tea was also precariously balanced atop; your mind had been so trained on your task at hand that you hadn’t thought about the clattering of the cup. Thankfully, Benjamin was a fairly heavy sleeper. 

Once back in the bedroom, you smiled at you peeled over at Benjamin, who hadn’t moved a muscle. Carefully, you placed your drawing board on the floor before sitting down beside it, first placing your tea to the side after taking a sip. Your pastels were put to the side, colored pencils placed in your lap, and you tore off four tiny pieces of tape to secure your pastel paper to your drawing board. Smoothing your hand over the paper, you paid attention to the way it felt beneath your palm, the toothy surface of the paper that was akin to the feeling of sandpaper, only finer. 

You gazed up at your bouquet. You'd all but memorized the way they were arranged in the case, which flowers had thicker stems, how bright the yellow of the daffodils were, how saturated the pink petals of the tulips, the shadows the larger blooms cast over the sweet pea and chamomile. Precariously, you opened the tin your pencils were arranged in, squinting your eyes as you regarded the flowers, then peering into your lap. Your pencils were just used for a rough sketching, an outlining of sorts that would be completely obscured by the pastels as you worked. It had been awhile since you’d  been inspired to play with color, the time to mull over saturation and warmth versus cool, to meticulously muck over the stark difference it was to shadow with pastels instead of charcoal. 

Your thoughts regarding color always started and ended with Benjamin’s eyes, the particular deep, warm brown of his irises, the chestnut undertones and flecks of gold within them. They were a color, you thought, that not even legendary artists could get just right. You loved the way they darkened even more with desire, when his mind was full of nothing except all the different ways he could devour you. 

After about five minutes of sketching later, you looked up from your work and over to Benjamin, who was very much awake, just watching you. You’d been so immersed in your work, you’d missed the change in his breathing. He smiled at you, creases forming at the outer corners of his eyes. “Good morning, love. You should come back to bed.”

Benjamin’s smile was contagious. Since the two of you had met, his smile had always drawn out your own; the expression held with it warmth, affection, and sometimes a bit of mischief. Your smile was broken by laughter at Benjamin’s invitation. 

“I’m working,” you said simply, still wearing a residual smile. Repositioning himself, Benjamin propped himself upward over the pillows. He glanced to the array of supplies around you, garnering that you were playing with color, and color had absolutely nothing to do with charcoal. He raised his brows just a shadow, yet you didn’t have to look up to witness it. You knew Benjamin Greene. 

“Congratulations on the new job, Y/N! Now, come back to bed and allow me to congratulate you properly.” And there was that smile, the one with a bit of mischief mixed in. 

Playing as if you were toying with the idea, you glanced longing over at your pastels, untouched as of yet. Without another word, you began clearing your lap of kelly green and sunshine yellow, candy apple red and tangerine orange. The pencils slid easily back into their tin container. You heard the rustling of bedsheets as you turned your back and bent to pile your things back into your old drawing board. 

You righted yourself back upward and stretched toward the ceiling, straightening your spine. You turned back toward the bed, but were captured by a pair of strong arms instead. You hugged Benjamin tight around his middle and your eyelashes fluttered against his bare chest as he placed a lingering kiss to your crown. 

“What are you working on, Ms. Kahlo?” Frieda, is it?” A warm breath of laughter followed the slight tickling of your eyelashes over his skin and Benjamin relished in those small, unconscious touches. He held you for a moment longer until you pulled back to nod toward your bouquet.

“Hand-picked flowers by a bloke called Benjamin… something-or-other. He has a good eye for colour, yeah? His name really should be renowned, the surname, too. Benjamin  is just too common a name, but so is Britney and everyone knows when the name is uttered, exactly who you’re talking about… oh, baby, baby.” 

Your impression left a lot to be desired, but that just added to the level of ridiculously adorable you’d hit without trying, and a loud timbre of laughter bounced off the bedroom walls. “I love you, Y/N.”

Your smirk was completely erased as your jaw dropped and your mind whirled. He...what did he just say? It couldn’t have been— he had never—

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sudden beat of silence throughout the house, just as it had been an hour before. He dipped his head in an effort to catch your eyes. You looked up to see his own, much darker ones, filled with worry. 

“That’s… that’s what the flowers were for, Y/N. I had a bit of… something prepared, just a rambling of things that have made me realize over time that…” His hands slid down your arms, around the curving of your hips and waist, down to the small of your back. “But I was late and I could tell you were working. You were beautifully smudged but I wanted you to hear it. To know. It just wasn’t the right time, and—“

“Benjamin.” Your voice was a whisper as your hands rose to gently press against his chest, but firmly enough for his hands to fall from your back as he took a step back. “Y/N, I’m—“

You turned to see the hurt in his eyes, as if his heart had been pulverized. Turning away, your own heart seizing in your chest, you clutched the frayed ends of your old t-shirt, fabric bunching between your fingers as you lifted it up and over your head. Your hair tumbled down and over your shoulders and you bent to rid yourself of the boxer shorts, pushing them down and stepping out of them. Finally, you slipped between the sheets, the cool material sending a pleasant chill over and under your naked body. 

“I think we have another thing to celebrate,” you spoke finally. Your eyes shined, not with tears but absolute awe. Benjamin blinked, one, two, three times as he strode to the opposite side of the bed and crawled in beside you. 

“You don’t—“

“Shhh.” You hushed him by lightly touching your finger to his lips. The man before you was simply exquisite. “I love you, Benjamin Greene. It's been for awhile now.”

Shock passed over his features briefly. Before he could say another word, you took his cheeks in your hands, meeting him halfway for a long, lingering, deep kiss. He smiled against your lips and pulled your body atop his own, skin to skin. Drinking you in with darkened eyes, he kissed along the curve of your shoulder. “Show me how much, Y/N.”

You never finished your sketch.

[myonmukyuu]

Art Summary: 2019

It’s that time of year again! Let’s get into it!! Wowie I already 6 of these now? If you’re curious about my thoughts, I put it under a read-more because this is a long one.

Previous: 2014 | 2015 | 2016 | 2017 | 2018

Before I start, there’s actually one drawing I put in here that I never put up? Kudos if anyone noticed LOL! It’s Nico wearing monster hunter gear in June!! I actually wanted to draw BiBi, and release them all at once but then I never really finished it so Nico’s in a weird limbo. (Don’t think I’ll put her up though rip)

Let’s start with the good. 2019 has been a real cool year for me? I started working full time as a lil baby Software Developer intern at an office in the city! I’m being kept on next year as a part time Developer (while I continue studying) but it’s been fun! On the flipside it meant that I’ve lost a lot more time for recreation and well, drawing. So I’m glad that I managed to get a consistent upload schedule kind of going? No blank spaces in any month! Before this year I would always draw during long 3-4 hour sessions, but because of this new lifestyle I’ve learnt to work on drawings in small consistent bursts each night. It’s pretty good in terms of discipline!

Now, in terms of actual art skill...

I guess the most notable thing is that I’ve been pushing to is to use more saturated colors, and I think it does show? It’s been something I’ve been slowly trying to ease into for awhile now. I’ve also started flipping my canvas more often, which might help with proportions sometimes LMFAO. There’s not much else to say other than the general things, like cleaner lines and whatnot.

That probably wraps up the positive takes I have for this year.

I can’t help but look back in...disappointment for this summary. It’s interesting, reading up on the little tidbit I wrote for 2018 where i’m like “wow!! my art has been refining so it hasn’t really changed!!” because I feel the same way, to a degree? I feel like my art hasn’t really changed. It has in subtle ways of course but like overall??? I haven’t been improving has much as I could. So instead of positively I’ve taken it more negatively.

You can call me harsh, but I just feel pragmatic about it. I feel like my art is plateauing, which isn’t a bad thing in itself, but just the idea of feeling the beginnings of that plateau, somewhere so mediocre in skill is kind of...depressing? Ten years down the line, I don’t really wanna be looking at the same-ish art. I’m also not the kind of person to be just content with never really improving. I know I have a  long way to go and I feel like this is a sign for me to take a more methodical approach with improving instead of just going with the flow like I always have?

So with the new year, and new decade I have resolved to try to overcome my weaknesses. My New Year’s Resolution is to improve my art through studying (as opposed to just winging it). I have a lot of short-comings to iron-out, but I know I can slowly work my way through everything. We might not see results immediately, but I’d hope it’d become clear in 2020′s art summary.

There are plenty of things weighing me down, so I’ll take steps to self-study them. I probably won’t go deeply into what’s wrong with my art (there’s a loooooooot) and all that since this review is getting quite long, but just hear that I want to improve! I’m not happy with where I am, but I’m not going to wallow about like a pissy little baby. I’ll take steps.

Happy New Year to everyone! If you’ve taken the time to read this, you’re a pretty neat person 😘